


Breaker: Short Stories

by Eksevis



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:50:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eksevis/pseuds/Eksevis
Summary: Some details are subject to change in the main canon.





	1. The Lord of the Dead

I grasped his hands tightly as he hung over the edge of the clouds.

"Don't let go!" I cried out, tears welling up. If he fell into the abyss, I knew I would never see him again. 

With all the effort he had, he gave me a small smile that told me everything would be okay. But as he fell, I cried out in anguish until my throat could no longer summon forth my voice and I simply laid there crying into the clouds, staining them grey.

I passed out, and when I woke up, my throat was still sore. I tried to speak. I tried to tell people what happened to him, but no matter how hard I tried, my voice simply would never come. I would later come to realize I would never again be able to speak. I eventually got into the habit of writing all of my thoughts down and the journal you are holding is the last one I will likely write. Many of them have been destroyed over the centuries, some are lost, and others I may never let anyone have.

It was years later when the clouds were ripped apart by the foolish 'hero'. I had just barely hung onto a ray of light, but I had chance to walk on the newly formed earth. For a long time, all I could think is that it didn't change anything. Our people were still very much our people, no matter if we walked on the clouds or upon firm earth, though at the time I held nothing against them.

By then, I knew that it was nobody's fault but ours that he fell into the abyss. We knew where we were walking was ancient and worn. We knew that, as beautiful as the ruins may have been, it was long unfit to be visited, but we wanted so badly to walk through it.

Even after my heart accepted this, I could not utter a word. Regardless of this, I had many children and I saw those children have children until they became much smaller and weaker. I truly wanted to love them, but I begun to feel disconnected as my children slowly died off, even though I still stood as strong as I had ever.

Some humans ended up worshiping our kind, and I was one of those relative few who had not yet been killed of. They called us all gods. They thanked us for giving them their abilities. They were foolish, and even more so when they started to fight over their favorite "god".

Eventually, a very powerful human did appear. He hated the gods. All of my people who still lived could see the abyss in his eyes.

One day, he came to us with a promising glint in his eyes. We bore witness to what he could do - opening massive holes into the abyss and close them. We knew he was on equal grounds to us, and we feared what he could do. But it all came back to that brand new shine in his eyes. It was I who eventually took him under my wing.

To be honest, I wasn't selected or voted to do it for a specific reason, but I was one of the small handful wholly willing to tame him. I helped him control his ability, and he grew fast. Everything was fine. However, when my people started to vanish is when my people started to truly panic for the first time in a very, very long time.

One day, while I was with him, I suddenly felt a heaviness in my heart. I could almost see light draining away from around the wicked man. He cursed, but before I could stop him, a hatch opened to the abyss and I fell, reaching out. In my heart, I cried out the name of the one I lost so long ago.

When I came to, I could see the earth over me, but no light reached the abyss. Quickly, I could feel something squirming up me. The creature - an abyssal - begun to consume me i tried to hit it off, but nothing I could do was powerful enough. This was the moment I died.

But it didn't end there for me. My eyes slowly opened up. I saw a green light shining off of me. I slowly stood up as the light faded. After a few blinks, i could see in the abyss. Everything was stone except for numerous bones. Some were human, some were from the abyssals, and some from the clouds a long, long time ago.

Something drew me to a specific set of old bones, and as my hand gained a green glow, I touched the bones skull. I screamed. I experienced the moment the man died - looking up at me, hearing my screams and trying to call back to me. But I heard none of it. An abyssal snuck up on him and consumed him. 

I pulled back, sharing his last wordless shout. The bones started to shake as they were surrounded by the green energy, and the bones slowly pieced themselves together. Flesh reappeared on him bit by bit until he stood there silently with ivory skin. His eyes were empty but not unseeing. 

I attempted to speak - to express that I was so happy to see him regardless of the condition he was, but what happened was truly strange. The words I attempted to utter came from his lips in his voice. Even to this day, I do not know how I did it, but somehow, i had given my will and ability to speak to him.

From then on, if I spoke, it was through him. Sometmes, when I'd see an slick and black abyssal approaching me out of curiosity, I would attack it with both mine and his body. It was after awhile that I realized that the abyssals didn't know how to react to me.

Eventually, it became lonely with just the two of us wandering the endless abyss, so I started to resurrect others. From those of earth and the clouds, I begun to amass an army of my own. The few who still lived down here noticed me and paid respect.

When my ability had finally awoken, my pride grew. Eventually, the word of my existence as the true Lord of the Dead reached the surface of earth, and I was worshiped as such. I loved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some details are subject to change in the main canon.


	2. The Hiker & the Snowmen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit that this one basically exists for the sole purpose of expanding the world. The place in it's timeline will likely be explained in another short story or later in the main story.

A man with a scarf covering all but his eyes stood on top of the hill overlooking a lush forest. In the distance, a hellscape of lava covering a once gorgeous and populated mountain. It had once been an ancient town known for its beautiful land and sighs, but now it was completely destroyed. 

It had been complete coincedental that the man, a longtime hiker, had found it as such. As far as he knew, everyone else believed the famous snowscape vacation was still a booming and lively place. His heart sunk, but he knew that he had no choice but to go on, and perhaps tell the next people he sees.

Once it was said and down, nothing could have been done to stop anything more from happening. He turned around to look down the extremely rough path he had just climbed. His footprints had already mostly vanished from wind and snow. Feeling that it would be safer to not walk towards the destruction, he started to retrace his steps.

It was a few hours before anything happened. A snow storm picked up, forcing him to flee to a cave that was conveniently close. He huddled in there for a half a hour before he heard something grumbling from the depths. He looked deeper into it, and that was when he saw an orange light approach him. 

That was when he saw a slightly hunched over man with white and wild hair. Despite how cold it was, he wear an open and sleevless fur jacket. He was muscular and his feet bare. He was that of a snowman. Some people called them Abominals, but despite their admittedly tribal and beastial habits, they weren't inherently evil. 

The hiker smirked, standing up. But this isn't why he was on the mountain. He had been looking for a particularly aggressive tribe of them who had been terrorzing and killing many innocent people. The snowman raised his weapon - a spear that had a tip made of fire itself. Despite being people of snow, they had long since mastered the use of fire just as well as someone who had the inherited ability to control fire. 

Because they didn't really tell anyone their secrets, the way they had completely mastered fire was completely unknown, but of course there were many rumors about. 

The snowman spoke in a low and growly tone in his ancient and gruff but beautiful tongue. The hiker knew a little of their language, and he could still tell that he wanted him to get out of there or to be attacked. Despite his intentions, the hiker raised his hands to show that he was unarmed in a semi-mocking fashion. The snowman stomped, before charging at him.

The thing about snowmen, they could not only control their body temperature to a point they could survive arctic temperatures, but they could also move exceptionally fast. Many, especially in the midst of a snowy day, could only see a vague blur whenever they met face to face. The only hint of them at times was just the displacement of snow their presence created - their sheer speed would create a temporarily snowflake free pocket of air.

To the snowman's dismay, of course, the hiker had no came unprepared. He had been trained, and though the snowman had an advantage, the hiker was at least not blinded by the snow, and that just gave him enough leanway to telekinetically push the man against the stone wall of the cave. The man's back snapped as it hit the wall, and he fell to the ground unmoving.

Admittedly, there was a small chance he wasn't dead, but all that matter to the hiker and whoever was to come by was their inablity to attack. He walked past the snowman, stepping over him carelessly. Sure enough, he found a village carved into the stone, and one after another he killed them before they could make even a scratch on him. 

The hiker had met many people who were against his methods, but many of them eventually came begging to him anyway. All it took was for someone importnat to them to get hurt badly, and they would change their mind, asking the 'hiker' to assassinate the assualters. He had nearly finished when one particularly persistent snowman stood up again. He, of course, been thrown into a wall in the hopes of at least paralyzing him, but that somehow didn't stop him.

When he stood up, he spoke sentimental words - speaking of his family, how he was only doing what he was told. The hiker felt like he was no different from everyone else, though - he knew that he'd continue to kill, and, given the chance, would hire another man to assassinate the hiker.

When he was tossed a second time, the hiker saw a green light surrounding the snowman's body, allowing him to heal extremely quickly. He stood up again. The hiker became frustrated and begun to strike the force of his telekinesis over and over against the man, hitting him like a series of thick walls.

Eventually he stopped moving. The hiker could now go back. It took a day for him to return to the village that hired him. They almost fell to their knees to thank him. He thought it was disgusting really, but it didn't matter anyway. The neighboring village had already been destroyed.


	3. Legends: Mask

The man looked down into the abyss. Though it was pitch black like usual, he could still see light reflecting off a mask. it transfixed him, and he could feel it staring back at him. Suddenly it moved and vanished out of sight. The man stumbled back in fear. He tried to sleep that night, but it only came difficultly. When it finally did come, he could feel something watching him. He woke up and found the same exact mask staring back him. 

The form of the being was still hidden in the dark, but his mask and its eyes still reflected light in the darkness. The jaw of the mask opened and devoured him, leaving only bloodstains. The psychic who discovered this woke up sweating, barely able to speak, only able to eventually write it down.


	4. Legends: Frequency

A long time ago, a man appeared dressed strangely. He wore rough textures pants and a soft cotten shirt. He was taken into the home of a generous old man who had long since lost his wife. They spoke. According to young man, he had came from a place of existence side-by-side ours, saying it was only accessible by becoming fast enough. Everything in this dimension, so to say, was moving so fast they were at a different frequency of reality.

Not many understand it, but I believe he was far more literal than most believe him to be. No real reason past a hunch. Anyway, this man tried to get back to his world by running forward and hopping back and forth. He could do all of these exceptionally fast, but he'd still curse and stay visible, claiming he simply wasn't moving fast enough. One night, he suddenly vanished. 

He disappered so suddenly a popping noise was heard echoing for miles. He and no one else has ever been seen again, or at least that's as widely known.


	5. Legends: Hall of the Dead

Long ago, there was once a story that told of a land across the seas. On this land, in the ancient times, it was controlled by a powerful lord of the dead, long before the current lord of the dead.

This person had such mastery over his abilities, nobody dared attack him, for if they did, they'd surely die and join his army of the dead, only making him more powerful. Peoples hopes had been naught for a very, very long time, until stories of a volcano's near eruption begun to sprout out of the long rotten seeds of hope.

People believed that the lava would be strong enough to burn away this wicked being's body and soul, so they drew him near to the mountain. It begun to burst, and they fled. Many could not escape, and were engulfed in the molten rock.

The necromancer had been defeated. Or so they believed.

When they returned, they found a tunnel outlined with people making a safe spot just large enough for one man to walk along; hallow cases of once living beings creating a hall of the dead.

How the story ended is unknown, but there are scraps of rumors from long ago that spoke of a being from the clouds who saw the corruption of the Necromancer. The two battled. and the cloud person destroyed much of the land, Finding it to now be barren of any hope of life, the land was sunken

Where this land mass once was, it's said the waters are still warm with lava, as land once again slowly rises up to meet the cool air of the sea.


	6. A Young Man's Journey (Part 1)

A little boy looked out his window and into the vast sea. He could see the ships disappearing in the horizon. His people had long lived on this isolated island, but many had gone out, and only spoke in whispers about the wonders they had seen.

From clear waters, to seas stained a pitch black, all the stories he heard, he would wonder if they were true. He would then image each sight; from the frightening to breathtaking.

Finally, when his 17th birthday came, he crouched on the small ship's bow. He was alone, but he managed to brave the seas until he saw land.

The land seemed to stretch as far as he could see. His tanned skin was sunburned and stung against the cool air of the sea behind him, and as he looked upon the shores of the land, he knew that the the leaves would not help him, but he cared not.

He threw an anchor down and leapt off the deck, stumbling as he hit the soft sand. He never intended to walk far, but he somehow managed to walk far enough to no longer see his ship before he met a village.

Their homes had been built of rough stone, the sizes and shapes inconsistent, but still somehow fitting and sticking together. Stranger yet, there was no sound but that of waves scraping against the earth.

He heard something rub against the stone, and when he looked, he saw a child of such pale skin that it seemed to cause him to glow. His eyes were red, and his hair a pitch black, somehow absorbing just a bit of his glowing skin.

As soon as they made eye contact, the child crouched low. The adventurer had no choice but to raise his guard. He had a basic idea how to fight, but he had never truly fought anyone, and the look and stance of the child was both animistic and experienced.

The child leapt forward, almost jumping 10 feet forward, but only a few inches off the ground. The child rocketed toward the older, darker skinned teenager. The 17 year old jumped, barely missing the child as he cleared over him. He turned to see the child expecting him to continue rocketing forward, but instead he saw the child slam his palm onto the earth beneath him, and spin around to redirect himself.

The teen now knew this wouldn't progress anywhere at this rate. Nearby, he saw a stone, and before the child could reach him, he tossed the stone at the kid. It hit him, and the kid humorously fell hard and sudden into dirt, He tumbled for a bit, and then found himself laying their bleeding.

The teen was confused, The child seemed to be very agile and adjusted to his ability, and yet a small stone had him tumbling. He was sort of tempted to get a stick and poke him to see if he was okay. Sure the child assailed him, but more than anything the curious teen was just clueless as to where he was, who this child was or what even was going on.

Before he could make his move, the child slowly sat up, grinning. then wordlessly bowed and reach out his hand. The teen didn't dare take his hand. He may have been a child of 12 or so, but he felt he could do more than most people he knew could.

The child stood up, and spoke words that meant nothing to him. Then he too twisted his face in confusion. Nothing was making any sense.


	7. Legends: Cloud Poem

Bustling cities once rest on the clouds,  
Beings of many colors spoke many ballads  
Long fallen, only we still stand  
The whispers of unspoken tongues ringing off the walls  
Emptiness, darkness - long forgotten and hidden  
A world slowly crumbling, missing its home so dearly

Split into two, then three, then four, falling and fallen  
Three fates passed and to come  
Fate cracked, then was born anew.


	8. Life

"Life is a gift; be thankful and explore all that it means to you, and wield it to its fullest." The elder sat back into his enormous throne made of pure white stone. The children all looked up to him - both at his awe inspiring presence and the words he spoke. As the People of the Clouds grew older and older, they would grow larger and larger. The elder, in particular, was far older than any numbers recorded.

He was one of the few who remembered when other beings lives on the clouds, but nobody dared speak of it to him. Long before any of the children were alive, there lived one other elder. When a curious man asked what had happened when he was young, the second elder dropped, his heart shattering and taking his life away. Countless cried over his body, and they were a hair's width away from punishing the man seriously, but nobody knew this would happen.

If any such event ever happened before then, it was so very long ago that nobody recorded it. So, nobody knew what happened until then.

The children all stood up and were slowly led out, they whispered excitement, knowing better than to release their full extent of excitement and start screaming and yelling, or at least not until they exited the temple.

One child turned to another, "how could it be so simple?"

The other shrugged, "I don't know. All they told us was the easy part - so what do we make of life ourselves?"

"Well, I think life is about being happy."

The other child frowned softly. He did not doubt it, but he felt there was more to it. That night, he lay in bed, staring at the cieling. The words the elder ringing through his mind over and over, and he kept pushing and pushing to find the answer in himself and the world. Maybe his classmate was right, but something about life being both complex, vague and simple bothered him to levels he would not learn for years.

This child grew up, and continued to ask his heart the same question again and again. He would voice it now and again, and people would be confused. He was a genius, yet he couldn't find the answer everyone else could. They'd tell him what they made of it, and then said it was simply that - what it meant to them, and that it came down to appreciating what you have.

But what he saw were people falling into the abyss, and the family around them weeping, only to continue smiling. Never going down to find them - never taking initiative. Eventually one of his former classmates tore apart the clouds, forcing him and most others to fall. He grasped onto the beams of light until others formed new land.

So many people who caused others pain had fallen into the abyss and to their death, so the child now adult admired - or at least genuinely respected - the man who changed their world. He had children, and gradually his children became weaker. he was broken, but they were happy looking up to their ancestors. He was content.

When he saw them fight over their Fathers and Mothers - their "gods", his confusion grew. He meant face to face with his children and explained what he himself did not understand. He never would know how many understood, but he felt and knew that his children too were spreading the elder's words. He was broken, but content.

Finally, one of his children came to him, and showed the power he had inhereited from his Father's blood. He was able to split open the world and have something fall directly to the abyss. He was terrified at first, but then his child spoke telling him of what he could do. He would use it to take down the People of the Clouds who had grown accustomed to their "god" title.

He smiled to his child, and told him destroy the evil hearted. Happy they may have been, but their purposes were corrupt. Eventually his child was given to a mute Cloud Person. His Father knew nothing of the person, for they were far older than he.

More and more people fell - and their worshipers too fell. But then a child of the man he had admired rose up and defeated his own child, leaving him a crumpled mess. The Father - once a child seeking happiness - looked down on his son. Tears welled up, and cried like he had for no other. He had lost many others before him, but to him, the Hatch of the Abyss was a chance for him to fix the world. He was so proud of him. What was life, again?

Finally, the Father looked around at his children's cousins and friends and family. He saw them happy, worshipping false deities. Anger grew... but he saw they were happy. He saw they were happy looking up to others - Human or Of The Clouds - it was what the majority wanted. Many who fought against were taken down. He was broken, but content.

But then then corruption flooded the minds of his children again. He tried to speak to his children, and they only looked confused. He tried to repeat the words that had long became empty to him, hoping that maybe something would land on them. They forgot who he was. He tried to explain, but they saw no father in a such a being, even if he was standing to them face to face.

His heart was broken, and he withdrew from everything for a long time. When he looked back, he regret his neglect. The People of the Clouds no longer meant anything to them - all they saw was a distraught being - perhaps even a mysterious, unknown and weak god. But nothing worth listening to.

It was then that he tried to look into the reason, and his confusion was only driven deeper. What he saw was pain and death like it had never been before in the clouds. With his children over the bodies of their family, crying and crying. Some never found happiness, and some managed to smile, even though all they did was sit back and watch others fall apart.

Life is happiness. That's what the elder said, right? That's what he told his children, right? Did they forget it? No. They wouldn't be living as they did.. but they also would if they did forget. Did they not understand they had to fight? When resurgence even attempted to rise, in almost all kingdoms, it was crushed, or if it succeeded, nothing would have improved, and nobody would fight back for a long time. The cycle went on over and over and over and over and over.

He became infuriated. If someone was fighting for what was right, why did they never stick to it? Why did people pretend to be happy while they held onto nothing? He hated the foolishness of his children. He was broken, and no longer content. It was time to punish his children.

They no longer deserved their gift.


	9. Golemsmith

A long time ago, it was said that a woman had a very powerful ability. From the very earth below her, she could automatically create humanoids of clay - golems. Despite her amount of power, she was extremely limited with how many she could make. In fact, she could only make one, and if it were destroyed, massive damage would be dealt to her energy, the destruction of it draining her mental strength.

Finally, a powerful general went through her home, raping and killing many of those close to her. She only managed to get by unharmed, but out of spite, the general went out of his way to kill everyone she loved. Her heart shattered, and though just barely holding herself together, she sought to avenge them. There was, however, something the wicked general did not know...

She was once in love with a rather strange man. He had came from a land far away, and when he left, she thought of him much of the time. One day, the ground started to feel odd beneath her, as if there was something moving just below her. Only a few days later, she learned the news;

He had tripped on a rock and fell to his death. She saw his body, and she cried and cried all night. She barely noticed it, but something crawled out of the ground, and she started to hear her lover's voice quietly whispering things.

"I love you too, sweetheart." and,  
"Who cares what they say? I've tried once before, but I can't change who I am." and,  
"I'm an idiot... but I can't help it. I'm so happy.."

All of these things were moments that were dear to her. Though the being of clay wore a dead, vague expression, she hugged it tight. She could feel a light hidden deep within it. it was faint, but recognizable. Deep down in it, lie the final thoughts of her beloved. She cried. Her love would never return to the way he once was, but his energy would forever protect her...

There was something the wicked general did not know; each person she loved that died would allow her to create another golem. Facing him, she had behind her a crowd of golem. They overtook him, tearing him apart. The people, most who followed him with no aim themselves, cowered away from the vengeful woman. 

The story of her started to spread; the story of the Golemsmith.


End file.
